


let’s put the day behind us (and bring on the night)

by xavierurban



Series: bless the broken road [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bed-sharing, Bruce is a good dad, Co-Sleeping, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape, Kidfic, Misunderstandings, Mother-Son Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Platonic Bed-sharing, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic, Talia is a good mom, Young Jason Todd, food insecurity, fresh off the streets jason was touch-starved as hell you can't change my mind, probably other tags bc there are still 2 parts i haven’t written, roman shows up in chapter 5 and is as sketchy as ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:31:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavierurban/pseuds/xavierurban
Summary: jasontoddal ghul-wayne, and several (mis)adventures in co-sleeping with his adoptive family (a 5+1 fic wherein the first 5 are from jason’s first year at the manor, and the +1 occurs after he returns from his time abroad)





	1. 1. damian and talia; decemeber 2005

**Author's Note:**

> title from bring on the night by alan jackson
> 
> trigger warnings for implications of sexual abuse of a child

The first time Jason is found in someone else’s bed, two weeks after he’s come to live at the Manor, things are tense for days to follow.  
  
No one had actually _yelled_ , but the alarmed expression on Bruce’s face had been telling enough when he’d opened Damian’s bedroom door one morning and found that his four year old wasn’t alone. Jason had done his best to keep out of sight over the days that followed, going so far as to barricade himself in his room with the door locked and a chair awkwardly dragged over and wedged underneath the handle. He’d even thrown what few belongings he owned into a plastic bag that he kept close to the window.  
  
The worst part is, Jason gets it. He knows he would think the same thing of anyone else, _especially_ another rough-around-the-edges street kid like himself, if he found them in such a compromising position. Honestly, he considers himself lucky that Bruce hadn’t attacked first and asked questions second, but the fact that no one has really done either has him so on edge he’s made himself sick five times already - surely a feat, given he’s barely allowed himself to leave the room to use the bathroom in the three days since The Incident, forget about trekking all the way to the kitchen to beg Alfred to let him eat something.  
  
Not that Alfred hasn’t tried bringing food up to him, instead, once it became apparent that Jason wouldn’t be coming down himself, but even then, Jason feels too sick with worry about what will happen to him to have more than a few small bites each time. (And doesn’t that just go against everything he’d ever learned, to waste food, to not eat whatever he was given when he was given it, especially with the threat of being thrown back out on the streets hanging over his head. Who knew when he’d eat again, once that happened?)  
  
It’s in the early morning hours of the fourth day when things finally take a turn.  
  
Jason had thought he was being quiet when he slowly opened his door just enough to slip through it and then crept down the hall to the bathroom, but, evidently, he hadn’t been as successful as he thought because when he slips back into his bedroom a few minutes later, there’s someone sitting on the bed.  
  
He very nearly bolts, backing up into the door he’d just closed as his breathing instantly starts to pick up, but he can’t seem to gather the dexterity to grab for the handle again, even when the figure on the bed stands. Even in the dim lighting, he can still tell that it must be Talia, and not Bruce, but it’s not a fact that comforts him much. He’s more than aware that women are perfectly capable of hurting someone just as much as men are, perhaps even more so if that woman is a mother who thinks she’s protecting her child. He’d seen it in his own mama a few times, even, when his dad had gone after him while she was sober. And Talia embodies everything that a mother should, as far as Jason’s been able to tell, so he’s certain that she’ll be a threat to him if she’s deemed him a threat to her family.  
  
He swallows hard and presses himself back against the door, but ducks his head in submission when she draws closer and flicks the light on before crouching down in front of him.  
  
“Jason,” she says gently, not reaching out to touch him, though her hand twitches as if she wants to, “I’m not here to harm you. I just want to talk, and make sure you’re alright. You’ve been in here for days.”  
  
Jason caves instantly - whether from fear or from the maternal tone Talia is using, he isn’t sure. Tears flood his eyes, quickly overflowing to streak down his cheeks instead.  
  
“I didn’t hurt him,” he swears, “I _wouldn’t_ . I wasn’t gonna. I- I- I just h-had a nightmare, a-and Damian’s just a-a little kid, he’s _safe_ , not- not like- And I wasn’t ever gonna hurt him, I’m not- I’m not- _that._ ” His breath hitches, and he feels like he’s going to shake apart, he’s so afraid of what Talia will do next, if she’ll believe him and leave him be, or if she’ll still punish him for presuming to seek comfort from her son without her permission. Even if he’d had Damian’s, but maybe she doesn’t know that?  
  
“Damian said I could,” he rushes to add, “He- I- He woke up when I o-opened his door. I didn’t just-”  
  
Or maybe it doesn’t matter, if Damian said it was okay or not, because Damian is _four_ and probably has no idea of the dangers of letting someone he barely knows get in bed with him. Jason should have known better, should have known that there was no comfort to be had from any of these people.  
  
After two years on his own, he should be used to it by now.  
  
He feels a little like he’s going to be sick again, and he’s dizzy from the way he can’t seem to draw in enough breath between words, and then, suddenly, there are arms around him, but they’re not restraining, not really, and Jason only tries to fight them for a few seconds before he gives in, letting himself go limp as Talia guides his face to her neck and then carefully holds onto him as she stands up.  
  
“Shh,” she soothes him, one hand rubbing circles into his back as she holds him close, and Jason would be embarrassed, because he’s not a _kid_ , but it feels too good and he doesn’t want it to stop, not if Talia is actually going to keep being nice to him, “Jason, you aren’t in trouble, shh.”  
  
He whimpers against her, his fists curling tightly into the material of her nightshirt, and closes his eyes.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, voice still choked with tears, “Please don’t send me away. I won’t do it again.”  
  
He feels Talia stiffen, and his grip tightens as he noses into her neck. She mutters something in a language that Jason doesn’t understand, and then moves to sit on his bed, settling Jason carefully in her lap as she does.  
  
“Oh, my sweet boy,” she coos at him, “No one is sending you away anywhere.”  
  
Jason shudders at the promise, and desperately wants to believe Talia’s words.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and Jason makes a noise of confusion, but when he tries to lift his head, Talia gently presses him back down, “We were all… concerned, to find you as we did. And when you fled, you must understand, we had to assume it was from guilt and not fear.” Talia sounds apologetic as she says it, but Jason _does_ understand, he doesn’t blame anyone for thinking the worst of him, even if the reminder that people will always see him the same way as _those kinds_ of criminals hurts.  
  
“I understand,” he mumbles, and Talia reaches up to run her fingers through his hair.  
  
“By the time Damian understood enough of what we were asking to confirm nothing had happened, you’d already locked yourself in your room,” she continues after a moment, “We realised you must have been afraid of what we would think, and… you were right to be, I suppose. Not that we would have hurt you, but we did jump to the worst conclusions.”  
  
Jason dares to snuggle even closer to her as he says, “It’s okay.”  
  
Talia makes a choked noise at that, and drops a kiss to the top of his head.  
  
“No, Jason,” she tells him, “It’s not. But we didn’t want to scare you more, by trying to force our way into your space. We promised you when we brought you here that this would be your room, and that no one would come for you here.” She huffs a self-deprecating laugh, and then continues, “I suppose I’ve broken that promise now, but I couldn’t let this go on any longer. You haven’t been eating, Jason, and Richard said he heard you getting sick...”  
  
Jason shudders in her arms again, and Talia holds him tighter, presses her lips to the top of his head in a soft kiss.  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbles again, sleepy and warm and _safe_ , for the first time in days, and Talia sighs.  
  
“Rest, Jason,” she tells him, “We can sort everything else out in the morning.”  
  
“Kay,” Jason replies, but when he moves to pull away, Talia draws him back in, and he doesn’t have it in himself to struggle. Instead, he breathes out a small sigh and lets himself fall asleep in the most maternal hold he’s felt in over two years.


	2. 2. dick; january 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings once again for implications of child abuse and child sexual abuse

All things considered, it’s not as much of a shock when they find Jason in Dick’s bed about a month later.   
  
Bruce and Talia had sat down with Jason after the fiasco with Damian, and he’d explained in a shaking voice how he’d grown up co-sleeping with his mama, and how he slept best with someone else beside him, how he’d never really slept alone until after his mama died, or on the nights when his parents were fighting so bad he just stayed under the kitchen table until the sun came back up.   
  
It hadn’t been an especially easy conversation.   
  
Bruce had wished more than anything that they could simply tell Jason to come to them, instead, but he knew that it wouldn’t work. He was almost certain that the boy was still afraid of him, and while he had no doubts that Jason would be okay sharing a bed with Talia…   
  
In the end, they had agreed that, so long as Damian was okay with it, then it could continue. After all, the issue had never really been about the two boys cuddling. It had never been an issue for Dick and Damian to do so, and, more confident now in Jason’s intentions, there was no reason to forbid him from seeking comfort from his siblings.   
  
More often than not, they would find Jason and Damian curled together in the youngest’s bed come the morning light, which makes it just a little alarming when they find Jason missing from both his own  _ and  _ Damian’s bedrooms.   
  
A quick sweep of the lower levels of the Manor doesn’t turn up any answers, until Bruce realises that Dick is  _ also  _ absent, a strange occurrence given how the eldest Wayne child has always been an early riser. On a hunch, he makes his way back upstairs, and cracks Dick’s bedroom door enough to stick his head inside.   
  
The sight that greets him eases his growing concern over his missing children while simultaneously igniting new concerns. Dick is sitting up in his bed, attention focused entirely on the sleeping boy whose head is pillowed in his lap, his fingers toying gently with the sweat-soaked strands of hair falling across Jason’s forehead.   
  
There are dried tears staining Jason’s cheeks and crusting over his eyelids, and his skin is flushed a deep pink. His breaths are wheezing out of him, drool wetting Dick’s sleep shirt as the younger boy is forced to breath through his mouth.   
  
Dick looks up at him wearily, and pointedly lays the back of his hand across Jason’s forehead.   
  
A fever, Bruce realises quickly - more likely a full on cold, by the sounds of the laboured breathing. He nods, and gestures to indicate that he’ll be right back before going to the nearest bathroom and digging out the first aid kit to find the thermometer and Vicks VapoRub.   
  
On his way back to Dick’s bedroom, he passes Damian who seems to have joined in on the search for his missing older brothers.   
  
“Damian,” he tells him gently, “Can you ask Mama to call Dr. Leslie, please? Jason isn't feeling well.”   
  
Damian gives him a grave nod, as if he’s been bestowed with the most serious of tasks, and says, “Yes, Baba.”   
  
“Thank you,” Bruce tells him, reaching out to ruffle his hair just to hear his indignant squawk as he tries to fix it before hurrying off to find Talia. Bruce chuckles, and then returns to Dick’s bedroom, letting himself in and sitting down on the side of the bed.   
  
“Do you know how long he’s been feverish?” He asks as he wipes a sanitizing cloth over the needle of the thermometer, but Dick shakes his head.   
  
“He came in here around, I dunno, five?”   
  
Bruce frowns, and reaches out to touch Jason’s forehead himself. The boy is definitely warmer than he should be, just shy of worryingly so. He nudges Jason lightly, his expression softening at the way the young boy whines and tries to burrow deeper into Dick’s lap.   
  
“Jaylad,” he murmurs, “I need to check your temperature. You can go back to sleep soon, I promise.”   
  
Jason whines again, and Bruce gently rubs his back while Dick continues to play with his hair. It's pretty telling of just how awful Jason must feel that he doesn't try to pull away from Bruce's touch.   
  
“C’mon, Jaybird,” Dick coaxes, “Just for a few minutes, okay? You need some water, too.”   
  
After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, Jason finally opens his eyes to blink blearily up at them, and Bruce gently manipulates him into a comfortable sitting position, still in Dick’s lap. The boy slumps back against his brother, and eyes the instrument in Bruce’s hand warily.   
  
“Don’ wanna,” he mumbles, “Not puttin’ that in my bum.”   
  
Bruce chuckles despite himself, and reaches out to smooth Jason’s hair back from his face.   
  
“It’s not that kind of thermometer,” he promises, “You just have to hold it under your tongue for a little while.”   
  
Jason still doesn’t look entirely thrilled, but he opens his mouth nonetheless, an adorably grumpy expression on his face as he keeps the thermometer there until it beeps. He lets out a heavy breath when Bruce takes the instrument away, breathing through his nose having been a minor struggle in the interim, and Bruce frowns at the numbers on the electronic display.   
  
103.2   
  
Alfred comes into the room then, a glass of water in one hand, and a bottle of children’s Tylenol in the other, and Bruce gives him a grateful smile.   
  
“Perfect timing as always, Alfred,” he comments, and Alfred merely hums as he hands the glass over to Dick who then helps Jason to hold onto it and take a drink. He opens the bottle of pills and shakes one free before passing that to Dick, as well, and waiting until Jason has begrudgingly swallowed it before sealing the bottle back up.   
  
“Dr. Thompkins will be stopping by for a house call in a few hours,” Alfred says, “I suggest we leave the young sir to his rest until then.”   
  
“Of course,” Bruce agrees, and Alfred nods and leaves.   
  
Jason is already struggling not to nod off between sips as Dick tries to get him to finish the glass of water with an exasperated huff.   
  
Bruce sighs, and takes the glass from Dick when it’s nearly finished, setting it on the nightstand.   
  
“Jason,” he says, and he’s dreading this part, really, because for as far as they’ve come since the first night they met, he knows Jason is still painfully skittish about certain things, “I’m going to have to take your shirt off. Do you understand how a fever works?”   
  
Jason flinches back against Dick, but he doesn’t say anything as he averts his gaze to the bedsheets, and Bruce sighs again.   
  
“Your body is overheating,” he explains, “And that heat will try to leave through your skin. It can’t do that as well if you’re covered up.”   
  
Jason frowns, but he seems to be considering Bruce’s words even though he still won’t look at him.   
  
“Just my shirt?” He says finally, and Bruce feels his shoulders droop as the tension he’d been holding releases.   
  
“I promise,” he says solemnly, and Jason gives a tight nod before raising his arms up so Bruce can help him out of his pajama top. He sets the top aside, and then grabs the jar of Vicks that he’d brought in with him, “Can I put a little of this on your chest, Jaylad? It will help you breathe better.”   
  
Jason just gives another tight nod, and tries not to flinch when Bruce reaches out a moment later to rub the ointment into his skin. He can’t quite keep from wriggling around uncomfortably, though, and Bruce tries not to let any anger show on his face, lest Jason thinks it’s directed at him instead of whoever made him so afraid of being touched.   
  
Jason lets out a small sigh of relief when Bruce pulls back, and he tries not to let it hurt, to remind himself it’s not because Bruce is  _ Bruce  _ that Jason is still reluctant to trust him. He closes the jar and takes the thermometer back up as he stands, and Dick carefully shuffles Jason out of his lap to lay down properly on the bed, and then lays down next to him, drawing the younger boy closer to him.   
  
“Do you want me to have breakfast sent up for you, Dick?” Bruce asks, but his eldest shakes his head and closes his eyes as he noses into Jason’s hair.   
  
“S’fine,” he says, “I’ll get up when the doc gets here. Nap time now, B.”   
  
Bruce chuckles, and leans down to press a kiss to each of their heads before heading back out into the hall, the door closing softly behind him.


	3. 3. talia; february 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little bit on the shorter side, so i apologise for that.
> 
> trigger warning continues to apply for implied childhood sexual abuse

Bruce is away on business the first time Talia wakes up to find Jason creeping into their bedroom in the middle of the night. Really, she can't say that she wasn't expecting it; there isn’t a doubt in her mind that hers would be the bed of choice, if not for the fact that it’s shared with Bruce.  
  
She offers him a tired smile as he comes to a stop at the edge of the bed, hesitation and longing both plain as day in the look on his face and the way he wraps his arms around himself self-consciously.  
  
“Come in, then,” she murmurs as she pulls the sheets back and pats the mattress invitingly, and Jason scrambles to join her, tucking himself close against her. He lets out a relieved sigh, and Talia drops a kiss to the top of his head before pulling the sheets back up and tucking them around him.  
  
“Jason,” she tells him gently as she reaches out to rub his back, “You’re safe here. You don’t need to be afraid of Bruce, or anyone else.” He tenses beneath her hand, and Talia does her best not to sigh. True, it’s only been three months since Jason came into their lives, but the toll his fear is taking on both himself and Bruce is painful for all of them to witness.  
  
“No one here would ever hurt you,” she promises him, then asks, “Do I strike you as the kind of woman who would stay with someone like that? That I would allow someone I didn’t trust implicitly to raise Damian with me?”  
  
Jason flinches at that, and raises his head to look at her with a pleading expression as he replies, “No! No, ’m sorry. I don’t- 'Course not. No, never.” He shudders as Talia brushes his hair away from his eyes, her expression patient as he adds, “But…”  
  
When he doesn’t continue, Talia hums, and prompts, “But…?”  
  
“But ’m not like Damian,” he confesses quietly, and Talia raises an eyebrow at him, “I’m… He’s _yours_. S'not the same. An' I’m already...” He trails off, shuddering, and Talia seethes, because she can guess how that sentence was going to end.  
  
Damaged. Dirty. Ruined.  
  
Take your pick.  
  
“Allow me to rephrase,” she says sternly, and, God, she wants to correct him on both points, reassure him that he’s theirs just as much as Damian is, just as much as Richard is, but that part can wait. The rest… Well, she’s still waiting for him to confide what, exactly, he’s been through in order to determine what points need to be made to him.  
  
Instead of addressing any of that, she asks, “Do you take me for someone who would be with someone who would hurt _any_ child?”  
  
Jason shudders again, his gaze casting down as he bites his lip for a moment before quietly replying, “No, ma’am.”  
  
“I understand you’ve been hurt in the past,” Talia sighs, and even if Jason hasn’t yet trusted her with all of the details, she’s confident that that much is true, the signs have all been there since day one, “So I understand your reservations, but you are _safe_ here, habibi. You needn’t carry this fear around you anymore, Jason, it’s okay to let it go now.” Carefully, she pulls him back towards her and tucks his head down against her chest, “You can relax now, Jason. It’s time to simply be a child.”  
  
She hushes him quietly, but otherwise doesn’t comment when she hears him sniffle, simply going back to rubbing his back. He settles eventually, and Talia speaks up again.  
  
“If you need the reassurance, however,” she tells him, “Even though I know no harm will ever come to you here, if it _does_ , or if I ever so much as suspect that it might, you have my oath that I will take you away from here. You aren’t alone anymore. I _will_ protect you, my son.”  
  
Jason gives a muffled sob at that, and Talia smiles down at him sadly as she adds, “You _are_ mine, Jason. You have been since the night Bruce and Richard brought you home to me.”  
  
Jason cries himself to sleep against her, tears soaking into the front of her nightgown as she rubs his back and hums quietly. Talia, however, doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night, despite the warm comfort of Jason’s small - too small, he’s still so damn _tiny_ , no matter how much they feed him - body against hers. Instead, she stays up, keeping watch over his sleep, and prays that he'll trust her to keep him safe for more than just the night.


	4. 4. cass, damian, and dick; april 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is pretty short again, but the next one is a behemoth, so hopefully that will make up for it?
> 
> i don't think there's too much to warn for in this one? the standard warning for references to at least the impacts of sexual abuse still apply, but there's nothing detailed

Bruce and Talia have only managed to have one hushed conversation about how to handle Jason and Cassandra ending up in bed together before it actually happens.  
  
The thing is, they know Jason isn’t going to do anything to her, and they don’t think Cassandra would hurt Jason either, but things are different, now, with a young woman in the house, and one with a very limited ability to communicate at that. Cassandra is fourteen, and, Jason, nearly thirteen; even contending with a few developmental delays, they’re both getting to that age where it’s just not appropriate to be sharing a bed together, but they have every reason to believe Jason will still try. It’s different with Dick, they reason, because they’re both boys; the fact that their eldest son is legally an adult and well into puberty himself just doesn’t matter the same way.  
  
They had hoped to be able to sit Jason down on his own to talk to him, but when Talia goes around to wake up the kids one morning only a few days after Cassandra joined them, she opens Jason’s door to find that he isn’t alone.  
  
That by itself isn’t entirely surprising, but the fact that it’s in his own room is. Every time they’ve found him sleeping with Dick or Damian, it’s been in one of his brothers’ rooms, never his own, because he was the one to seek out the contact. But there he is, sprawled on his own bed with Cassandra draped protectively over top of him.  
  
Cassandra peeks one of her eyes open to stare at Talia for a few seconds before she gives a soft growl and tucks herself tighter around Jason, and Talia’s eyes widen in surprise. Jason twitches underneath her, but settles again quickly when Cassandra quiets down.  
  
Quietly, so as not to wake Jason, Talia closes the door to allow the two children to steal another hour of sleep and resolves to tell Bruce later so they can move up their time table about talking to Jason. Neither of them had expected him to take to Cassandra so quickly.  
  
Then again, between herself, Barbara, Leslie, and even Janet Drake, Jason has proven himself much more readily inclined to trust the women in his new life over the men. Perhaps this isn’t so surprising, after all.  
  
It doesn't take long to realise it may actually not be about Jason trusting her, anyway, at least not exclusively. In her waking hours, Cassandra sticks close to Bruce and Damian, for the most part, but come nightfall, she continues to end up in Jason's room night after night without fail, and if she's not on top of him then she's between his body and the door. Talia only hopes that it's more for Jason's peace of mind than because Cassandra truly believes anyone in the Manor to be a threat.  
  
It's not a problem, until it is. Damian has been coming around to Cassandra's presence in the Manor, but he's still unhappy with her taking away from his own time with his parents, and, eventually, that bleeds over to Jason, too. After all, he had gotten used to having Jason all to himself most nights.  
  
So it isn't all that surprising, at least not to Talia, when a few months into Cassandra's stay with them, she finds her youngest wedged between the two young teens in Jason's bed one morning.  
  
His presence in Jason's bed quickly becomes almost as consistent as Cassandra's, and Dick, never one to be left out from a good cuddle pile, soon finds himself integrated as well, more often than not.  
  
Bruce and Talia never do end up having that conservation with Jason, but they do cave in and upgrade his bed to a king after Cassandra's adoption is finalised.  



	5. 5. bruce; july 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, the (possibly?) long-awaited tipping point between jay and bruce! i went through several different ideas on how this one should go, but they always seemed to come back to something of this nature. jason needed a push to trust bruce, i guess. anyway, this got a lot more in-depth than the others instead of being more of a vignette, so i hope it doesn't feel clunky with the rest of the fic.
> 
> trigger warnings for sexual harassment, physical assault, mentions/suggestions of underage prostitution, and narrative musings about sexual abuse of a minor and the impacts it can have on the child's way of thinking

The first time Jason sleeps with Bruce without Talia there as a buffer between them comes on the tail end of a particularly bad day. With Jason’s first Wayne Gala right around the corner, Bruce had taken him into town late in the afternoon to be fitted for a new suit, and the boy had eventually grown bored after the initial measurements and fittings were completed.  
  
Bruce should have known better than to let Jason go on ahead of him to the bookstore down the road while he finished up at the tailor’s, but it had been years since the last time anyone had threatened or tried to kidnap one of his children. The idea that Jason might not be safe didn’t even crossed his mind.  
  
It’s only when he overhears something he isn’t meant to as he makes his way through the stacks to find his son that he realises what a grave mistake he’s made.  
  
“Pretty thing like you,” someone says from a few aisles further back, and it stops Bruce uncomfortably in his tracks, “Bet you were doing just fine for yourself on the streets.”  
  
Bruce’s skin crawls as he recognises the voice as belonging to Roman Sionis, owner of Janus Cosmetics. He and Roman haven’t been friends for many years, since long before the rumours started about how he liked to indulge in more than just the grown women of Crime Alley. No charges had ever been laid, of course, no concrete evidence ever brought forward, but it was a subject that seemed to make its rounds time and again, leaving little doubt in Bruce’s mind that there was some truth to it. He picks up his pace, unnerved at even the thought that it _could_ be Jason who he’s speaking to like that, a thought that is confirmed with Roman’s next words.  
  
“Such a shame that Wayne found you before I did,” he says, and Bruce sees red so thoroughly that he almost misses the sharp sound of a slap followed by a familiar snarl.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
His voice seems to thunder down the aisle, and Roman lets go of Jason’s wrist like he’s been burned and steps back a half-step with a sneer on his face. Bruce wants to wrap his hands around the other man’s neck and squeeze, especially when his gaze catches on the red mark on his son’s cheek.  
  
“What do I think _I’m_ doing?” Roman asks, outrage contorting his face as he looks at Bruce, “Your little _alley cat_ just _bit me_ , Wayne!”  
  
Jason snarls at him again, then immediately takes as much of a step back as he can when Roman’s attention returns to him. Bruce walks towards them slowly, like a predator approaching its prey, and Roman takes a step back from where he has Jason crowded back against the bookshelf. Jason immediately darts away from him and rushes to Bruce, slipping behind him and latching onto the bottom of Bruce’s jacket. Bruce shifts, widening his stance to shield Jason further from view.  
  
“A perfectly reasonable response to someone grabbing onto him after spewing such filth,” Bruce replies, eyebrow arching as the colour drains from Roman’s face, “Tell me, Mr. Sionis, what exactly did you think gave you the right to speak to my son that way? Even worse, to put your hands on him?”  
  
“Now, Mr. Wayne, _Bruce_ , I’m not sure what you think you heard,” Roman says, hands out placatingly, and Bruce silences him with a particularly hard glare.  
  
“I know exactly what I heard,” he states, his voice practically a growl, “And if I _ever_ see you within ten feet of _any_ of my children again, I’ll have you brought up on harassment charges faster than you can say PR nightmare.”  
  
Roman scowls at him, mouth pursed like he’s just eaten something especially sour, but he falters under the weight of Bruce’s glare after only a few more seconds. Bruce doesn’t move until well after Roman has disappeared from view, but when he does, it’s to turn around and kneel before his frightened child.  
  
“Jason,” he says softly, hesitating to reach out to him, but Jason surprises him by diving forward to cling onto him, his arms winding around Bruce’s neck and tightening. Bruce spares a moment to think how unfortunate it is that it took a legitimate threat in order for Jason to finally deem him a source of protection, a safe place.  
  
He wonders if it will last.  
  
“Easy,” he whispers, settling one hand on the small of Jason’s back and carefully standing back up. Jason’s legs wrap around him, and he runs his other hand through the boy’s hair, “I’ve got you, Jay-lad.”  
  
He’s surprised to hear the boy sniffling, and it makes the rage crest inside of him again. The next time he sees Roman Sionis, he’s certain he’s going to put his fist through the other man’s face.  
  
“It’s alright,” he murmurs as he starts to head back towards the door to the bookshop, “Why don’t we come back another day, hm? I think it’s time to get you home.”  
  
It’s a bit of a struggle, getting Jason to let go of him so that he can settle the boy into his booster seat in the back of the car, and Bruce wishes he’d taken Alfred up on the offer to drive them around instead of choosing to do so himself. But Talia is out of town, and Bruce hadn’t wanted to burden Dick with babysitting his remaining siblings while they were out, especially with Damian down for the count with a cold.  
  
Finally, Jason allows Bruce to get him belted in properly, but he looks far from thrilled about it, and Bruce leans in to press his lips to the top of Jason’s head.  
  
“I’m going to be right here in the front, Jay,” he promises, “I won’t even be out of your sight.”  
  
Jason’s bottom lip trembles, and he looks away from Bruce, pointedly ignoring him until he finally sighs and shuts the door. He doesn’t waste any time getting into the front seat and starting the engine.  
  
Bruce was expecting Jason to make a break for it as soon as they got back to the Manor, either hiding in his room by himself or perhaps placing himself as unobtrusively as possible in whatever room Cassandra was in. He’s surprised, then, when Jason immediately clings back onto him again once they’re both out of the car, even more so when Jason remains that way throughout the rest of the night, not even opting to leave Bruce’s lap when they sit down for dinner. He only begrudgingly stays with Dick long enough for Bruce to use the washroom when nature can no longer be ignored, and then immediately forces his way back into Bruce’s space.  
  
The only reason Bruce minds is because it’s undeniable proof of how shaken the boy is.  
  
Jason kicks up a fuss when Bruce tries to carry him to his own bedroom when the younger children’s bedtime arrives, screaming and scratching as he refuses to be parted from his father. It isn’t long before Bruce just doesn’t have the heart to keep trying and gives in, murmuring quiet reassurances as he grabs a pair of Jason’s pajamas on his way back into the hall and then heads towards his and Talia’s room.  
  
He nudges the door shut behind himself with a sigh and then heads into the en suite bathroom where he sets the pajamas down on the counter. Jason has gone tense in his arms, and Bruce forces himself not to sigh again.  
  
"You need to get ready for bed," he says as he carefully tries to extricate himself from Jason's hold on him, "I'll be just on the other side of the door, alright? I'm not going anywhere, but I think we could both use a little privacy while we change, hmm?"  
  
Jason seems to relax a little at Bruce's words and releases the death-grip his legs have around him so that Bruce can set him down.  
  
Bruce straightens back up and then goes to one of the drawers and pulls out a new toothbrush which he sets on the counter next to the holder that has his and Talia's in it.  
  
"Take as much time as you need," he tells Jason as he turns back around, "I'll be waiting in the bedroom when you're ready to sleep."  
  
Jason shifts, and looks around the bathroom for a minute before nodding. Bruce takes that as his cue, and steps back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.  
  
He uses the time apart to quickly change into a pair of sweats and a tank top, and is relieved to hear the toilet flush and the sink turn on as he does. In all honesty, he was starting to worry about Jason having an accident during the night, since he'd refused to be left alone to take care of his business.  
  
He's sitting down on the side of the bed when the bathroom door opens and Jason shuffles back into the bedroom, showing the first indicators of hesitation all night as he stalls on walking over to Bruce.  
  
"It's alright, Jason," he tells the boy gently, "Do you want to go back to your room?"  
  
Jason shakes his head, but doesn't move any closer.  
  
"I won't hurt you," he tries next, and Jason chews at his bottom lip as he seems to consider the validity of his words. Bruce does his best to remain still, yet relaxed enough to not put the boy on guard.  
  
"I'm sorry I left you alone," he says finally, and Jason cocks his head to the side as he continues, "I shouldn't have done that."  
  
The thing is, Bruce has had all evening to think about what had happened and Jason's reaction to it, and he thinks he's figured it out. It isn't that Jason feels safer with him because he made Roman go away, it's that Roman got close to him because Bruce _wasn't there_. It's less about feeling like Bruce will protect _him,_ and more that he thinks _other people_ wouldn't dare to hurt him on Bruce's watch.  
  
At least, that's what Bruce suspects. The traces of fear that Jason is showing again now feel like confirmation. Bruce isn't _safe,_ he's just _safer_ , like the lesser of two evils, or the devil you know.  
  
It's not a nice thought.  
  
Slowly, Jason moves a few steps closer before pausing again, and Bruce gives him an encouraging smile.  
  
"You are safe here, Jason," he says, "I would die before I let someone hurt you here. That includes myself."  
  
"Why?" Jason asks - demands, really - and Bruce can't help staring at him for a moment, confusion turning to heartbreak as Jason continues, the dam finally breaking, "You keep sayin' you don' wanna hurt me or do nothin' with me, and I don't understand 'cuz why else would ya wanna hafta spend money on food and clothes and shit for me? Stuff like that don't just come free, not for kids like me. There's always a price. So- So if you don’t wanna fuck me, and neither does anyone else, _what do you want?_ "  
  
It isn't like Bruce didn't already assume Jason felt this way, but hearing him say it… It feels like his heart is shattering in his chest. It's like the night they met all over again, and he wishes Talia was there. Cautiously, he stands up and crosses over to where Jason is, then kneels before him.  
  
"Who told you that?" He asks, rather than addressing the question outright, "Who made you believe that you are somehow less worthy of love and care than other children? That you owe anything for having your needs met?"  
  
"Are ya kiddin' me?" Jason scoffs, "No one had to _tell_ me anythin'. You don't get it cuz you been part of the ruling class yer whole life. You ain't never had people kick you outta their shops even if you scrounged enough to buy somethin' to eat just cuz yer clothes were too ratty or you were too dirty, or had someone offer ya a warm place t'sleep if you'd just get in their car and let 'em fuck you first."  
  
Bruce has to bite down on his anger at that, not wanting to scare Jason even more, but, God, he'd like to get his hands on every last creep who had treated Jason - or any other child - that way. He's not so naive as to think there wasn't someone who hadn't taken no for an answer.  
  
"Even my old man was always complainin' that kids are just a waste of money," Jason mutters, looking away as he wraps his arms around himself, "He talked 'bout selling me off all the time..."  
  
Jason shakes as he says it, and Bruce can't stop himself from reaching out and drawing him into his arms. Jason goes utterly still, holding his breath, but Bruce refuses to let go.  
  
"You are _not_ a burden, Jason," he tells him fiercely, "Not to me, not to Talia, and not to the rest of the Goddamn world. You have just as much right to exist, to be healthy, and happy, and _safe_ as anyone else, and I will tell you that every day until you believe me if that’s what it takes."  
  
Jason starts to shake again, and lets out a wet gasp as Bruce continues.  
  
"The _only_ thing you owe me is to become the best you that you can be," he explains, feeling Jason's fingers curling into the front of his shirt, "You are my _son_ , Jason, and all I want is to see you thrive. I… understand that that is hard for you to believe, but I swear to you on my own parents' graves that it's the truth."  
  
Truth be told, he's not expecting the way Jason starts to cry, then, or the way he sags into Bruce's arms like a cable that snapped after being pulled taut for too long, but he recovers quickly, holding the boy closer and nuzzling into the top of his head.  
  
"It's alright, Jay-lad," he murmurs, "It's okay to cry, I know you've been afraid for so long, but you don't have to be any longer."  
  
His words only seem to make Jason cry harder, and Bruce carefully stands up with him still in his arms and moves back over to the bed.  
  
"Shh," he soothes as he pushes the blankets down and carefully sets him on the bed. He gently pries Jason's hands away from his shirt, and turns the bedside lamp on, "Shh, I'll be right back. I'm just going to go turn the light off, alright? I'm not leaving you."  
  
Jason makes a noise of acknowledgement as he turns to press his face into the pillow, and it takes every ounce of Bruce's willpower to walk calmly over to the lightswitch and then back to the bed instead of running. He slips into the bed carefully, and rolls onto his side to look at Jason.  
  
"Would it be alright if I held you?" He asks rather than assuming, and Jason lets out a sob even as he nods his head. Bruce draws him closer, shifts him so that he's crying into his chest instead, and rubs at his back.  
  
"I know you're afraid," he says quietly, "And I know most people haven't given you a reason not to be, but I'm asking you to take a leap of faith on me, Jason. For your own sake. The stress you're putting on yourself… it's dangerous for your health, and you deserve so much more than that. Let me give you that, Jason. Please, son."  
  
Jason's cries start to quiet, but Bruce can tell by the growing dampness on his shirt and the way Jason continues to shake that he hasn't stopped.  
  
“What if I can’t be good enough?” He asks after a few minutes have passed, sniffling as he tips his head back to look at Bruce. His cheeks are wet, and, his eyes, red from crying, and Bruce gently wipes away a few stray tears with his thumb as he wonders how anyone could ever look at that face and want to hurt the boy wearing it.  
  
“You already are,” he promises, and Jason’s eyes well up with tears all over again as he shakes his head. Bruce frowns, and cups Jason’s face lightly, holding his gaze as he says, “Yes, you are. There is nothing you could ever do to make myself and Talia not want you anymore.”  
  
Jason’s tears spill over again, and he buries his face against Bruce’s chest once more as another wave of sobs takes him over. Bruce holds him throughout, rubbing his back and stroking his hair in turns, until his son’s crying subsides again. He’s pretty sure Jason has cried himself to sleep, so Bruce is a little surprised when he speaks.  
  
“I don’t wanna be scared no more,” Jason says quietly, almost too low to be heard, but Bruce is too focused on every change in Jason’s breathing to miss it.  
  
“Then trust me to take care of you, to protect you,” Bruce murmurs back, “Can you do that?”  
  
Jason sniffles, and somehow manages to sag even more against Bruce’s chest as he mumbles, “Okay.”  
  
Bruce squeezes him close for a moment, and then relaxes his grip into something still firm but less crushing, something that he hopes Jason will find comforting. Protective.  
  
“Thank you,” he says softly, and Jason makes a soft noise of confusion but doesn’t comment further so Bruce doesn’t try to explain himself. Silence falls slowly, interspersed with Jason sniffling and Bruce shushing him until, finally, Jason drops off to sleep, and Bruce follows not long after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maaaaan, parents should really learn to be careful what they promise, huh? there’s only so much they can control.
> 
> also, for anyone questioning why tf a nearly-thirteen year old is in a booster seat, i would just like to remind y'all jason was only 4'6 when he died at fifteen in canon and booster seats are strongly encouraged for any child under 4'9.
> 
> it might be about a week or so for the next update, as i'm going out of town for a wedding and won't be bringing my laptop. i'm going to try to at least finish writing the last chapter for this so that i can post it on tuesday night, but i can't actually promise it. the next fic will likely take a little while longer, too, since i don't expect to have much time to work on writing while i'm away. sorry in advance! hopefully this chapter will have helped tide you over until the next update!


	6. +1. damian; june 2019

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sooo sorry for the delay in getting this up. i didn't have time to finish writing it on my trip, and it's been a busy week since i got back.
> 
> trigger warnings for referenced panic attacks, and implied physical and sexual abuse

Mother had warned him not to crowd Jason once his older brother arrived back at the Manor, but it's proving to be more difficult than Damian had anticipated. He can't really help it, though. It's only been a day, and he's already seen Jason have three panic attacks, one of them so bad his older brother had actually blacked out for a few minutes.  
  
And that's not to mention the cast around his wrist, or the still-healing cuts and scratches that now litter his skin. Just looking at his brother makes Damian angry enough to fight someone, except the person who deserves his wrath is miles away, and sticking close to Jason in order to support him and protect him from any further threats is the best he can do now. Even if the threat is Jason himself.  
  
Because, honestly, he's not so sure they should be leaving Jason alone, anyway. Not if he runs the risk of passing out again. That's the excuse Damian makes for himself when he knocks on Jason's bedroom door that night, shortly after he'd announced he was going to turn in for the night.  
  
Jason's eyes are red when he opens the door, his voice thick with suppressed tears as he asks, "Dames?"  
  
Damian is suddenly very sure that he made the right call.  
  
"Akhi," he says, "I thought perhaps you'd like company tonight."  
  
Jason's shoulders slump, and he lets out a long breath before nodding and stepping aside.  
  
"Just like old times?"  
  
Damian smiles slightly as he steps into the room and moves towards Jason's bed.  
  
"Except I suppose you're the little spoon now," he teases, and Jason makes a disgruntled noise in response as he closes the door.  
  
"I'm still your big brother," he grumbles, and Damian chuckles.  
  
"My little big brother, perhaps."  
  
Jason's face scrunches up at that, and Damian can't help smirking at him when he asks, "Aren't you supposed to be being nice to me?"  
  
"Stop whining, and accept your fate, squirt."  
  
"Shut up and get in bed, baby brother," Jason huffs, shutting off the light and shuffling over to the edge of the bed.  
  
Damian obliges, flipping the covers back and crawling under them, and Jason follows a moment later. He seems to hesitate for a while before pressing closer and only then does Damian wrap an arm around him to hold him close. It takes a few minutes, but Jason finally relaxes, tension leaking out of him as he settles back against Damian's chest.  
  
"Thanks," he murmurs, and Damian holds him a little tighter.  
  
"Goodnight, Akhi."

* * *

Damian wakes easily to the sound of panicked breathing and a body, suddenly tensed and held taut, pressed against him. He’s quiet for a long moment, making no move to press closer or pull away; when they were kids, all Jason needed was a few seconds for his mind to catch-up to his surroundings. It becomes apparent pretty quickly that that’s no longer the case.  
  
Damian shifts eventually, when Jason doesn’t start to settle. He lifts his head to look at his older brother, and frowns when Jason seems caught between flinching away from him and trying not to move at all, his eyes squeezed tightly closed as if he can block out whatever he thinks is happening if he just doesn’t look. It sends a spark of rage through him, and Damian could kick himself for the way Jason lets out a fearful whine when he tenses and bites down on a growl.  
  
“Jason,” he starts to say, but the damage is done, and the older boy goes lax next to him, head turned away in defeat and eyes still closed.  
  
God, he had been so young the last time Jason was this skittish and fearful, he barely remembers it. Seeing his tough, fearless older brother regressed to such a state now makes his blood boil with the need to take action against the bastard who caused it.  
  
“Please don’t,” Jason whispers, a resigned plea he clearly doesn’t expect to be obeyed, and Damian’s brow furrows, “Max…”  
  
Damian jolts from his stewing at that, and moves to press one palm against the mattress as he pushes himself up to hover over his brother’s body instead of pressing against it. He spares a brief moment to be embarrassed by his morning wood, before deciding that getting Jason into the present is more important than his pride.  
  
“Jason,” he says again, “Akhi, open your eyes. It's Damian, you're at the Manor.” He hesitates, wanting to touch his brother but not sure that doing so would be a good idea.  
  
"You're safe," he continues, then adds, "افتح عينيك."  
  
Jason shudders at that, but his eyes crack open just a bit and Damian holds his breath.  
  
"Dami…?" Jason asks, confused and blinking as if he suspects that he's seeing things, "How did you get here? You shouldn't be here..."  
  
"Akhi, you're not in London," Damian replies, sitting back on his heels, "You're in Gotham. You're home."  
  
Jason blinks a few more times and then takes a sharp inhale.  
  
"Oh," he says on the exhale, "I thought…" He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flicking downwards for a moment as a blush rises in his cheeks, "I…"  
  
"You thought I was _Him_ ," Damian fills in, and Jason gives a short nod as he sits up and draws his legs up to his chest, "You thought I was going to hurt you."  
  
Jason is quiet for a long moment before letting out a stuttering breath.  
  
"Not exactly," he admits quietly, and Damian tilts his head, confused, before his eyes narrow as realisation dawns.  
  
"I’ll kill him," he mutters, "I will _kill him_. How dare he-"  
  
Jason flinches at the rage in his brother's voice, and, sounding so tired, as if down to his very soul, says, "It's okay, Damian."  
  
Damian frowns at that, clenching his fists to try and get a handle on his anger.  
  
“It is not,” he argues, “How could you say that?”  
  
Jason just sighs, and gives a small shrug, and Damian wishes he knew what his brother was thinking, even if he’s sure he would hate it.  
  
“You wouldn’t say it was okay if we were talking about Timothy and Conner,” he presses, unwilling to let it go, and Jason’s head snaps up so he can stare at him.  
  
“Fuck no,” he says vehemently, “‘Course not. It’s… complicated, okay?”  
  
“Then uncomplicate it for me,” Damian insists, and Jason groans as he flops back down onto the bed.  
  
“I don’t want to talk to you about this,” he says as he rests his arm over his eyes, “You’re practically still a kid.”  
  
Damian huffs at that, and crosses his arms as he mutters, “I’m _eighteen_ , brother.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Jason says, clearly unmoved by that fact, “Have you even kissed Jon yet?”  
  
“Jason!” Damian sputters, and glares down at his brother, “That is hardly relevant.”  
  
Jason is quiet for a long moment before sighing in defeat.  
  
“Look,” he says, finally, “You can know something isn’t right and still just… accept it, okay? Some things, you just have to get used to to get through.”  
  
The words are hardly a comfort, as far as Damian’s concerned, but he can sense that now is not the time to argue. Instead, he huffs out a sigh, and lays back down next to his brother, his head resting on Jason’s shoulder.  
  
“I’ll still kill him,” he says after a moment, and he _understands_ why their grandfather has decided to hold off, to wait for Jason to actually feel as if he’s gotten justice first, but the thought that the animal who hurt his brother in so many ways is still out there, breathing and living his life… It makes Damian’s skin crawl with the need to _do something._ __  
  
“Sure, Dames,” Jason says, disbelievingly fond as he ruffles the younger man’s hair and shuts his eyes again, “My hero.”  
  
Damian can't help but think that, if he was really a hero, he would have known something was wrong a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, i hope i haven't screwed up on the arabic. damian is meant to have said "open your eyes." i also hope akhi was the correct choice for brother. please correct me if i'm wrong!
> 
> it might be a little while before the next update. it's going to be a three-parter, and i have bits of each part done, but not nearly enough to predict how much longer the first part will take me to finish. thanks for sticking with me!


End file.
